Onyx (16 page)

“Are ye sure we canna come wit’ ye?” asked Ian, clasping Onyx’s arm and patting him on the back, saying goodbye.

“Nay,” answered Onyx. “This is somethin’ I have te do meself. But I swear I will be back so dinna fret aboot it.”

“Ye can take me horse so ye’ll no’ have te share one,” said Aidan. Onyx almost laughed when he saw the damned squirrel sitting on his friend’s shoulder like some kind of pet bird.

“We’ll be fine,” he said, helping Lovell
e up onto the horse. He rather liked the idea of riding together, as he missed feeling her body against him even if she was a damned witch. Besides, the clan only had a few horses, and being up in the Highlands in the winter, they needed them should they get in a predicament. He would try to get another horse later when they stopped in Glasgow.

“Keep an eye on Tawpie fer me,” he said, clasping Aidan’s arm in a goodbye. “
Ye may want to make sure she disna eat yer new pet.”

“I’ve named the squirrel,
Reid
, for its color,” said Aidan proudly running a hand over the squirrel’s red fur. “And dinna worry, I can guarantee Tawpie will be nowhere near me squirrel.”

“Aidan
. . . ye didn’t . . . did ye?” Onyx tore open the travel bags tied to the horse, digging through them looking for his kitten. His hand brushed over the box with the book inside and he thought he heard a noise. He looked down to see an eye peeking through the carved wood on the top and almost jumped out of his skin.

“Tawpie, get outta there a
fore ye eat the damned book.” He opened up the box and lifted out the cat by the scruff of the neck. It’s green eyes looked up at him innocently, and a rolling, low purr resounded in its chest. Its black stripes were becoming more pronounced on its tawny fur, and the dark rings around its tail fatter. He could see it growing each day. “Ye’re no’ coming wit’,” he said, handing it out for Aidan to take.

The cat hissed
, and fussed and squirmed, not wanting to stay behind.

“Let her come, Onyx,” he heard Lovell
e’s sweet voice begging him from atop the horse.

He turned to look at her, the cat still dangling fro
m his fingers. “I thought ye didna like me cat.”

“I’ve had a change of heart
. I’ll . . . hold her if you want.” Her hands were out, and Tawpie nearly jumped from his hands and landed on her lap, rubbing up against her.

“Ye know the
t is a Scottish wildcat. And I’m no’ responsible fer anythin’ it does.”

“I know,”
she said, petting it carefully, keeping her hand far away from its mouth and its claws.

“A
nd ye do realize thet though ’tis jest a kitten, some day its teeth will grow larger, longer and sharper.”

“That’s the risk I’m willing to take,” she said, and her smile about melted him on the spot. This is what he liked about her. Though all the odds may be stacked against her, she never seemed to show fear, or give up hope.

“All right,” he said, closing up the bag and giving Clarista and Isobelle a hug. “I’ll be back soon te let ye know what I learn aboot me new family. If they really are, that is.”

“Tell Talbot we’d like him to come visit us in the Highlands,” said
Clarista. “He’s never been here and it is about time.”

“Thet’s becooz he hates the Scots,” growled the chieftain from behind her.

“That’ll change,” said Clarista, taking her husband’s hand in hers. “Once he meets his long lost son, he’ll accept the Scots once again. After all, you hated the English not that long ago, and you changed your mind, if I must remind you.”

“No’ aboot all o’ them,” he
grumbled.

Onyx nodded to him and got atop the horse, his arm holding Lovell
e around the waist and his legs pushed up against her from behind. It felt good, too damned good, and he was having a hard time staying angry with her for having tricked him.

He looked down to the MacKeefe
s – his family, all waving and wishing him a safe journey, and found himself wondering if his new family would welcome him with open arms just the same. Then he remembered the angered look of hatred upon the man’s face that day four years ago. The man that Clarista said was probably the Earl of Blackpool. His father! That man seemed to already hate him though he didn’t even know him. And the more he thought about what the man supposedly did to him as a baby, the more he realized he hated him too. He wondered about his real mother and if it was true she’d died birthing him. Then he thought of the woman who pretended to be his mother, and her lies made him even more angry. This was a bad idea to go to England, he felt it in his bones. But now that he said he’d do it, he knew he could not break his word.

“Yah!” He kicked his heels into the horse and headed over the
hills toward the border. “Let’s get this over wit’,” he said more to himself than to Lovelle, suddenly feeling as if he wanted nothing to do with the Earl of Blackpool, nor Fenella ever again.

* * *

It was late that night when Onyx finally stopped at the Horn and Hoof Pub for the night. Lovell
e was so cold, and also so thankful that Onyx wasn’t going to make her sleep on the ground again.

“Onyx,” called the pubkeeper
from the door, waving his hand.

“Callum, gui
d te see ye.” He dismounted quickly and reached up for Lovelle. The cat was on her lap and awoke and jumped to the ground, taking its warmth with it.

She put out her arms and when her feet hit the ground, their eyes interlocked and his hands lingered on her waist. She was glad he wasn’t so angry with her anymore, and only wished it was day and she could see the co
lors of his eyes and hair and face, looking something other than black and white.

She truly hoped there was a charm in the book that would help her to conquer her color blindness, as no one knew how difficult it was to look
out of her eyes and see the world the way she did. She felt as if she were missing all the vibrancy of life - all the beauty of the entire world. And she was. She remembered the blue sky and the green fields and the bright red and pinks of the flowers from before she’d birthed her baby. She wanted that again. And she wanted to see the color of the MacKeefes’ tartans or the cat’s eyes. Or the color of Onyx’s flushed cheeks after they made love. If they ever did again, and she didn’t know if they ever would.

“Ye are no’ bringin’
her
in here, are ye?” asked Callum, when he saw her dismount as well.

“Why
no’?” Onyx asked.

“Becooz when y
e left wit’ her, it wasna on guid terms wit’ the rest of the Scots.”

“Is Storm and h
is family still here?” Onyx looked around him, but no one was really outside on such a cold day.

“Nay,” said Callum.

Onyx took the travel bags off the horse and signaled to a boy standing in the entrance to the stables. He ran over and Onyx handed to him the reins of his horse. The young boy took them and headed back to the stables quickly.

“Are there women and children here?”
He continued his conversation with old Callum.

“Jest the usual hoors,” the man answered
.

Onyx
threw the pack over his shoulder. “How aboot the English guards? Are still here then?”

“Well, nay,” he said, seeing what Onyx was getting at.

“Then unless ye object, I dinna see a problem.”

“Well,” said Callum, scratching his head. “I s’pose it’ll be alright if it’s only fer the night.”

“We’re leavin’ first thing in the morn, as we need te get te England afore they kill Fenella.” He took Lovelle by the elbow and guided her toward the pub.

“I’ve ne’
er heard ye call her anythin’ but mathair,” said Callum, following them to the door with Tawpie at their heels.

“Thet’s becooz I’ve ne’
er had a reason te doubt she was me mathair afore now.”

“What do ye mean?” The old man stopped in his tracks and cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes.

Onyx turned to face him. “Och!” he said. “I fergot te pay the lad a coin te watch me horse. I dinna want it gone in the morn.” He handed Callum the travel bags. “I’ll meet ye both inside.”

Lovell
e walked into the pub with the man named Callum, feeling very uncomfortable when the patrons stopped talking and just stared as she entered. There were no women in there except for the whores, and even Tawpie took off chasing a mouse, leaving her as well.

“C’mon,” said Callum with a shake of his head. “Ye better sit at the drink board close te me til Onyx gets back te look after ye. There’s no tellin’ what may happen. After all, it’s no’ e’ery day we
have an unescorted English noble lassie in here.”

“Thank you,” she said, following him over to the drink board and having a seat at the counter.

“What in the clootie’s name does Onyx have in these blasted packs, as they’re damned heavy.” He laid them on the counter and turned to get her a drink.

She looked over her shoulder, wondering how long it would take Onyx to return. Hopefully, she could get the old man to tell her what the charms said and hide the book again before Onyx figured out what she was doing.

She reached into the bag and grabbed the chest with the book inside. She quickly pulled out the Book of Hours, just as he turned to hand her a goblet of wine.

“Fer ye, me bonnie lassie
,” he said. Then his eyes settled on the book. “What’s thet?”

“Thank you,” she said, putting the wine down next to her and looking over her shoulder once again before quickly opening up the book to the charms and holding it out to him. “Can you tell me what this says?” she asked. “I am afraid I don’t know Gaelic.
”

The man took the book in his hands and studied the pages. “
This looks like some sort of ancient Scottish charms,” he said.

“Aye, I know that,” she said, impatiently. “But can you read them aloud to me, please? And quickly.”

“Of course,” he said with a nod of his head. “Let’s see. It seems this first one talks aboot how te ward off the plague.”

“Really?” she asked e
xcitedly, wondering why her mother didn’t use it when the plague hit England when she was a child.

“And . . . oh, this one, me lady is a spell te make someone want te
couple wit’ ye,” he said. “Och, the things they say te do is too embarrassin’ fer me te read aloud.”

“Forget that,” she said. “Is there one there to cure someone from going mad?
Or to help one’s eyesight?”

“
I dinna see any. Hmm. Here is one sayin’ te pree a puddock,” he said, shaking his head. “That sounds to me as if ye have te be mad te do what they say.”

“Pree a what?” she asked, wondering if she’d heard correctly.

“Kiss a frog,” he said without looking up. His finger scanned the items on the page. “I dinna e’en ken where te find some o’ these things they say ye need.”

“
But what about a charm to conquer madness?” she asked again.

“Hah!” Callum laughed aloud, his eyes focused on the book.
“If there is, I think we could use it on the whole MacKeefe clan,” he said, flipping the page. “Especially Onyx.”

“Use what on me?” she heard Onyx’s voice from behind her. She just squeezed her eyes closed and her body stiffened, knowing she’d been caught.

“Yer bonnie lassie here asked me te read her these charms,” said Callum, holding up the book to show the frog with the human head painted on the vellum page.

Onyx grabbed the book and slammed it shut and shoved it back into the box. He then had a conversation with the man in Gaelic
. Lovelle didn’t need to hear it to know that he was telling the man she was a witch and not to read any more to her.

“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing her by the arm and hauling her to her feet.

“Where are we going?” she asked. “And I haven’t had my wine yet.”

“Then take it with ye
,” said Onyx, shoving the chest into Callum’s hands. “Watch this for me, will ye?” He then threw the travel bags over his shoulder and pulled her toward the stairs.

She
’d hurriedly picked up the goblet, following along with him, trying to take a sip as they walked.

“Is there a room we can use tonight?” asked Onyx over his shoulder
as they climbed the stairs.

“Use the one at the end of the hall,” Callum called back to him. “But I only have the one empty
, as the lassies have the rest booked fer awhile with their clients.”

“The
t’s all we need,” he said, and she wondered what that meant. He directed her down the hallway and into the room and closed the door behind them. Then he threw the travel bags over the chair and took off his weapon belt and hung it on a hook on the wall.

He looked at her again, and she knew
by the intensity on his face that he was still angered.

“I canna
leave ye outta me site fer a moment, can I?”